


Lightning Crashes

by victoria_p (musesfool)



Series: Dog Days of Summer [21]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: dogdaysofsummer, Huddling For Warmth, M/M, Thunderstorms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-21
Updated: 2005-08-21
Packaged: 2018-03-20 06:24:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3640128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musesfool/pseuds/victoria_p
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We have to get out of these wet clothes."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lightning Crashes

"It looks like rain."

"Don't be such an old woman," Sirius replies, throwing a leg over the motorbike. He gives Remus an ingratiating grin. There are few people who can resist him when he grins, and Remus is rarely one of them. "It's cooler up there, anyway." As Remus looks like he is about to melt in his button-down shirt and his jeans, this is surely an incentive.

Remus sighs the sigh of the long-suffering, just as Sirius knew he would, but he swings onto the bike, just as Sirius hoped. "I'm sure I'm going to regret this."

"You'd regret not doing it more, if I'm up there with the wind in my hair and you're down here melting like a cheap candle."

"Uh huh." Remus settles his hands on Sirius's hips, but that's not going to be enough to keep him on the bike, and anyway, Sirius wants him closer. He takes Remus's hands and pulls them around his middle, resting them on his belt buckle. Remus slides down on the seat to press up against his back, and Sirius reminds himself to breathe. He revs the engine and the bike roars to life. Sirius loves the power and freedom of it even when it's on the ground; in the air, nothing matches it.

Remus is right. It does look like rain--the sky is that odd grey-green color of late afternoon storms and big black clouds are rolling in from the east--but part of the fun is outracing the storm. They manage it for a while, and it's everything Sirius could have wished; the smell of ozone and the distant roll of thunder only make things more exciting, raising the hair on his arms and making Remus squirm closer.

The sky opens while they're still somewhere far from Godric's Hollow; lightning splits the sky and Remus lets out a whoop that would be surprising to anyone who didn't know him as well as Sirius does, but Sirius has made Remus the object of his intense study for years now, and there is an adventurer, a wild boy, a marauder, beneath the plain brown surface of his skin.

"We should land before we get killed," Remus shouts, his breath warm against Sirius's ear, and Sirius laughs, because of course, even as an adventurer, Remus is prone to being sensible. "There's a barn just ahead."

Visibility is for shit, but Sirius can see the building he's talking about--a disreputable looking shack in the middle of a field. He starts to laugh, because really, it couldn't be more perfect if he had planned it.

They're soaked by the time they get there, and Sirius can honestly say he's starting to feel a little chilled when he drags the bike inside with them. Remus sits down on a bale of hay, his hair plastered to his scalp and clothes plastered to his skin, drops of water clinging to his lashes. He wraps his arms around himself and Sirius can see he's covered in gooseflesh. Sirius isn't any warmer himself.

"We have to get out of these clothes," he says, and Remus looks at him, baffled.

"What?"

"So we don't catch a chill. Huddle together for warmth."

"Sirius, it's the middle of August in England. I don't think we're going to freeze to death."

"Your lips are turning blue and my teeth are chattering."

"And taking our clothes off is going to help?"

"Body heat. Come on." Before Remus can raise any other objections, Sirius pulls his shirt off over his head. He is not particularly vain, but he knows he's beautiful, and he knows Remus is susceptible to beauty. His mouth goes dry and he has to swallow hard, because Remus has taken his shirt off as well, and water runs in rivulets over his tanned skin. Remus isn't the only susceptible one.

It is a joy to be free of their soaked jeans, and Sirius stares his fill at Remus's body, thin and scarred and brown from the summer sun. It's nothing he hasn't seen a hundred times before, but now he looks with intent, with desire, and that makes all the difference in the world.

"We should huddle now," he says, his voice hoarse, and Remus cocks his head, but allows himself to be pulled into an embrace once they are down on the floor, their wet clothes laid out beneath them. Sirius shifts, and their cocks brush, making both of them gasp. Sirius notices Remus is as hard as he is, and he smiles in relief.

"Sirius?" Remus's voice is strained, his eyes dark.

"Remus. I want--I wish--Oh, bollocks." He closes the small distance between their lips, his kiss taking Remus by surprise. Remus tastes of rain and tea, and he kisses Sirius back with great enthusiasm, his tongue curling and fluttering inside Sirius's mouth. They thrust together, laughing, breathless, and when Remus's hand curls around their cocks, stroking as they move, Sirius feels as if lightning has struck him, as if the thunder of his heart has split him wide open and all that's left is need, want, _Remus_. "Fuck."

"Sirius," Remus manages, as Sirius licks away the water--rain and sweat--pooling in the hollow of his throat. "Sirius, please."

"Fuck, Remus." The lightning flashes behind his eyes as pleasure crashes through his body, centering on his prick and radiating out. Remus kisses him then, hard, more teeth than tongue, and comes with a low growl Sirius can feel because they're pressed so close together.

Remus flops over onto his back, one arm flung over his eyes. _He's blushing, he's embarrassed, oh God, I hope he doesn't hate me,_ Sirius thinks before he realizes that Remus's shoulders are shaking and he's laughing so hard he's curled up into a ball.

Sirius rolls over onto his side to stare down at him. "What? What's so funny? Moony?"

"You," Remus replies, pointing a finger and trying hard to breathe through his laughter, "are a walking, talking cliché."

"What? I--"

"'We have to get out of these wet clothes.'" That sends Remus off into another round of loud laughter, and this time, Sirius joins in, a little embarrassed. "We're wizards, Sirius. We could have just used drying and warming charms. You were trying to seduce me."

"Trying?" Sirius replies, trying for a tone of injured hauteur. He sniffs. "I'd say I was damned successful. I didn't see you reaching for your wand." He cocks his head and purses his lips and then, "But I quite liked it when you reached for mine."

Remus thumps him on the shoulder, still laughing. "Vile seducer."

"You're so bloody thick. You weren't responding to any of my hints."

"Sirius, you probably flirted with the healer the day you were born. How was I supposed to know you meant it?"

Sirius pounces on him, then, straddles his hips and begins raining kisses on his face and chest. "This is how, you git."

"Mmm..." Remus thrusts up, hard again. "I think I like this method."

"Me, too." They kiss again, and Sirius thinks he will never get used to the feeling that he's captured lightning in his hands when he holds Remus.

*


End file.
